Sensing nothing
by The Documentor
Summary: Another short oneshot. HouseCameron, both POV in different parts. Rated for small use of language. Not intending to continue with it. Please R


Disclaimer: I don't own House or iPod.

This wasn't like him at all. Looking over at the clock on his apartment wall, he wondered why he was still sleepless at one in the morning. He was usually fast asleep by now, especially after drinking on Friday night, but he still lay flat on his back on the carpet, headphones still pumping the dregs of his iPod play list. The ceiling was almost glowing in the darkness of the room he lay in, the shadows whispered at him in the midnight winds passing through the open windows. It brushed against his weary face, reminding him that he hadn't changed from his jeans and The Beatles t-shirt since Wilson left the apartment.

He wondered where Cameron had been that night. Everyone was gathered in his living room; Cameron was the only one missing. She had apologized to him on the phone that afternoon; just before she was due to arrive. He was happy she wasn't coming anymore, but when Chase, Foreman, Wilson and Cuddy started drinking games, he missed her too much to be in the mood.

His heart sank below the floor, as he wondered why she wasn't there so suddenly. He wanted to know so badly it almost consumed him and before long, he finally realized he needed to know to sleep again. He needed to see her again. He needed her. Stumbling to get up, he put on a jacket and slipped out the front door. He'd come up with a reason on the way.

Words flew through her mind as she strummed out the melody onto her old and weary acoustic guitar. Up, down, moving from chord to chord, the music weaved it's way out of her fingers. She sat neatly cross-legged in the shadows of the dark room with her favourite black dress on which fell below the crème lounge chair she sat on. Her long, smooth auburn hair pooled around the curves in the instrument of release and her porcelain arms kept stroking the flat, worn face.

_Can you hear me? Feel you near me…_

The lucid words spilled from her mouth, she wished he were here to hear her singing so honestly about him. One more chord, one more note, one more song about him. Her music book was lying next to her, papers brimming the cardboard that held it together. Shredded love songs fell like loose feathers to the carpet floor of Allison Cameron's apartment. One of her songs lay torn apart next to her on the seat; she had mentioned his name in that one. It was her latest edition to the shredded love songs that fell like loose feathers to the carpet floor of Allison Cameron's apartment.

_Faded shadows, deep distractions, never any moment when I don't…_

Piano harmonies started to play in her mind against her music. Her eyes closed amongst the moment and let her hands do most of the work to join with the piano.

_Can you imagine, can you see in your mind's eye a love without whatever it is I need…_

She opened her eyes in a sudden movement, there he was. The shadows in the dark room flew from his hand as they slowly moved up and down from the ivory he pressed in harmony with her. His piercing blue eyes turned to look at her; they gazed over her ghostly white being, which still continued to pluck in unison with the melody.

_Shadows casting their darkness over ghostly white, illuminating the nothingness in me…_

She could sense that feeling she knew all too well stream like blood through her arms towards her chest. That feeling, that spell she'd been under for so long, suddenly her heart fell. People often use the expression "heavy heart", little did they know that she truly did have a heavy heart. It weighed down on her at all the inappropriate times, but now was finally the time to let it out. A diamond tear fell from her emerald eyes and fell from her porcelain face to finally collect on her guitar.

_So here I am, here without you, here without my heart, I lost my heart…_

A drumming sound came from the distance; beating with the music, yet slowly out of time. The piano stopped, as she looked back over at him. He was gone. The banging continued, getting louder and louder as she wrenched herself from her teary misery. She pushed the guitar from her embrace and smeared the tears on her face before opening the door to her dark and empty apartment.

"House…" she mustered a smile, brushing away her flowing tears as the weary man stood at her doorstep, "wait, what are you doing here so late?"

"I..I..." Damn. He still hadn't come up with an answer to that, "I thought something was wrong." His effort to come up with something cool had failed him in his worry of why she was crying at 1 am.

"Did you...you. Of all people, you suspect something's wrong with me," she pushed away another tear and mumbled to herself, turning away from him, "nobody ever suspects anything's wrong with me."

"Well, there must be something wrong," his face grew worried as he decided to cut the snarky crap at this particular moment, "you're crying at 1 in the morning from God's sake."

"I know," she sobbed, the tears she hadn't cried pushed against her cheeks.

Before she knew it, the cane fell to the ground and she was between his arms. She tried so hard not to keep crying but his hand caressing her hair couldn't stop her. Suddenly the man she was crying about was letting her soak his shirt with her tears. She wanted to wrench away and be strong, but she simply couldn't anymore. House was opening up to her; she didn't want to miss this opportunity.

He looked down at the auburn beauty in his arms. He patter her head as she cried deeply into him, there she was. He had figured out what was wrong. This wasn't like him at all.


End file.
